DOG EAT DOG

It was a pungent stench that woke Miles Jackson from his state of temporary unconsciousness. He was unable to decipher what it was at first, because chloroform was still burning in his nostrils, masking the worst of the foul odor.

Where the hell was he? He couldn’t see, couldn’t pinpoint the smell. It was just some type of funk.

Something wet tickled his hand, and he automatically recoiled. He didn’t know what it was, and realized with dismay that the reason he couldn’t see was because he was blindfolded. The air around him was cold, and even though he was freezing, Miles didn’t think he was outside. He squirmed around, and as sensation returned, found his hands tied behind his back.

Then he heard a tiny yelp.

What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of joke?

He was gonna kill his boys, if that was the case. Miles didn’t appreciate practical jokes.

He was the serious type.

Serious about one thing, making money.

That’s why he’d gotten involved in the dog fights, he…

That odor…he recognized it now. Yeah, that’s what it was, the nasty aroma of wet dogs.

“Hey, what the fuck is this shit?!” he demanded loudly.

No answer was forthcoming. Now he was really getting pissed. A seemingly endless line of curse words spewed from his mouth as he began shouting at the top of his lungs, describing in detail what he was going to do when he found out who was behind this.

“I highly doubt that,” a low, female voice hissed from behind as he felt his hands slip free.

He sprang to his feet, ripped off the blindfold, and turned around a little too fast. Bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed it back down, determined not to give those damn clowns the satisfaction of watching him puke.

Shadows swam before his eyes in the dimness, but as they adjusted, he was able to make out three shadowy, cloaked figures standing behind a familiar-looking metal gate. One he was usually on the other side of.

Miles realized with a fright that the gate was, in actuality, the wall of a cage, and that he was inside it! Another stream of obscenities, and then he spat at them through the gap in his teeth.

Now, there was more yelping. Miles drew himself to his feet and leaned against the metal wire for support as he turned back around. Three small pit-bull pups stood behind him, shivering.

A nervous chuckle escaped his throat.

Yeah, this has to be some stupid prank. He thought.

“Alright, you assholes, just let me out already; fun’s over.”

When he turned back, the cloaked figures had vanished.

Dizzy and nauseated, he slumped back down to the floor. Miles didn’t care much for dogs…actually, he hated them. When he’d been a little kid growing up in the projects, people had some mean-ass dogs that terrified him. He was in the dog fighting business for the money they made him, plain and simple.

What was the deal with the puppies? He laughed unexpectedly at the notion he might want puppies. The humor helped him regain confidence; he needed to get control of the situation and get the hell out of here. Think, he commanded himself.

In unison, all the pups began to whimper. They were far too young to be away from the bitch that had them. He kicked at them with the metal tip of his Italian shoes.

“Grrr…” A low growling seemed to be surrounding him, causing an unsettled feeling to take hold in his lower gut. As he rose back to his feet, his eyes darted about, following the puppies as they disappeared through a tiny trap door across the huge cage. As he moved away from where they had disappeared, his shoes slid in a puddle he’d failed to notice, and he lost his footing. He landed on his elbow, hearing a crack as he landed in dog piss.

“Aughhh!” Miles howled in pain. “My arm, my arm!”

Lights burst on overhead.

He scampered away from the wall of the cage, tears running down his face as he clutched his arm in agony. The sleeve of his Armani jacket was soaked in urine. Whoever’s brilliant fucking idea this was, he thought, is really gonna pay when I get my hands on them. He clenched his perfect white teeth together, trying not to let his voice betray the pain and rage blazing like a furnace inside.

Clearing his throat, he said evenly, “Okay, you got me. Now get me outta here. I think I fucking broke something. I need help…”

The words froze in his throat as he locked eyes with a full-grown pit-bull. The pups were suckling on their mother as she eyed him warily, baring her teeth before barking viciously at him for kicking her runts.

As his surroundings were bathed in light, he discovered, to his horror, a dozen cages; all housing fierce looking fighting dogs.

One lone figure remained—the woman who had been talking to him earlier. Miles was on a stage in some sort of dilapidated auditorium, surrounded by those caged beasts, and she was lounging against a dusty old velveteen chair, dark sunglasses covering her eyes. A few cinnamon curls strayed from under the hood of the black cloak covering most of her body. She propped the foot of a high-heeled leather boot on one of the steps in front of her, leaning forward a little onto her knee.

“Enjoying your company,” she spat, before adding. “You lowlife.”

Who was she? Was it some Ho he’d pissed off? Or one of those psychotic animal lovers?

He glared at her hard, trying to remember…

Slowly, she slid the covering off her head and tore off the glasses. “Remember me?”

A shudder went through his body. He should’ve recognized her voice—the acoustics in the old building distorted it, along with the fact she’d kept her voice to a low growl up until now. Miles had realized she was a psycho after their third ‘date’. He’d just been so taken by her looks. Even now, as his eyes skirted her voluptuous body in a skintight emerald colored dress, he unwillingly became aroused. Looking at crimson lips curled into a sneer and wide hazel eyes glowing yellow under the bizarre lighting brought it all back.

“Halley? Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Dogs belong with other dogs, Miles. Don’t you think?” Apparently, she found the statement hilarious because she was laughing so hard she was practically howling.

Surely she wouldn’t…

“You’re sweating fear, Miles.” Halley inhaled deeply, licking her lips.

He heard a noise…like someone flicking a switch. One of the cages opened, and a pit bull charged at him like a bull towards a matador. He backed up against the cage wall and kicked the beast right before it managed to sink its teeth into him.

Another click. Then another.

He was surrounded.

Pit Bulls with strong fighting bodies began circling him.

Huskies. Cobalt eyes blazing at him.

Rottweilers. Powerful jaws snapping…

Sharp teeth bit into his flesh, piercing ebony skin beneath the expensive threads he wore.

Ripping.

Shredding.

Blood.

Laughter…

***

Halley slid open the cage.

The dogs whinnied, licking her hands as they ran free.

For several moments, she stared down at the mangled body of what had once been Miles Jackson. Pity, really. He had been physically beautiful as a human, and she was certain the change would have made him exquisite.

Too bad he’d been such an animal…